


the memory will never die

by SurviveEternity



Category: Professional Wrestling, Total Nonstop Action Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Asphyxiation, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:42:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6559732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurviveEternity/pseuds/SurviveEternity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of pro-wrestling drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seth/Dean - 144. Wolfish Grin

**Author's Note:**

> All prompts taken from [ birdsonqs 435 Writing Prompts! on deviantART ](http://birdsonqs.deviantart.com/art/435-Writing-Prompts-324874505)
> 
> Warnings:  
> Chapter 2 - Major character death, mentions of asphyxiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No major content warnings.

Seth leveled an unimpressed look at his boyfriend, who just grinned back in response. Dean’s hair was slicked to his face, water dripping down his nose. His hoodie - which had been grey once upon a time - was pitch black, completely drenched from the rainstorm Dean had just walked through. “You’re ruining my floor,” Seth gestured to the growing puddle on his hardwood floor. His landlord was going to kill him.

“C’mon, Sethie,” Dean said, his grin growing wider when Seth’s eye twitched in response to the nickname. “It’s just a floor.” He held out his hand. “C’mon. Promise you won’t regret it.” His wolf-like grin dropped from his face, no longer taunting and joking - Dean’s eyes were completely honest, his expression earnest. He wanted Seth to enjoy this - whatever it was - with him.

Seth sighed. “Fine,” he relented, but he paused before taking Dean’s hand proper. “But you’re in charge of drying all of this. And when the landlord’s looking for someone to blame, I’m pointing him to you.” Only when Dean nodded rapidly did Seth take his hand. It was so cold and clammy, from the chilling downpour.

“Let’s go, princess,” Dean dragged Seth out of the apartment, barely giving him enough time to lock his door. Dean tapped his foot insistently, not letting go of Seth’s hand, while the door was locked and gently shaken, to make sure it was actually locked. Once that was done, they were off again.

Dean led him down the staircase and into the alleyway behind the apartment building. “You’re not leading me to my death, right?” Seth asked, half jokingly and half cautiously. He wasn’t a small man and he could hold his own in a fight, but he still avoided the alleyway. No need to take any extraneous risks.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Dean looked almost hurt for a second. They paused, Dean no longer dragging Seth. “You wound me, sunshine,” he said, his tone making it a half-truth. “You really think so little of me?” He grinned slightly, trying to frame it as a joke, but Seth knew the pain in his eye to be real.

Seth squeezed Dean’s hand, _ ‘I’m sorry’ _ spoken without words. He intertwined their fingers -  _ ‘I love you.’ _ Then Seth stepped closer, the two now side-by-side.  _ ‘I’ll follow you wherever you lead.’ _ “C’mon, man,” he said, smiling at Dean. “Let’s go see whatever it is you’ve found this time.”

Dean smiled back, an endearing sight which reminded Seth why he loved the bastard, damaged floors be damned. They exited the alley and turned the corner - Seth paused, looking at the sidewalk in front of him.

“Uhm,” Dean said, his free hand fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “I was gonna make it all sappy and shit, ‘cause it’d make you blush, but - uh - I figured it was easier to do this.”

“Of course, you idiot,” Seth breathed, taking Dean’s face in both hands and kissing him.

The rain continued to pour, soaking everything except the three words painted onto the sidewalk with water repellant.

_ ‘Sunshine _

_ Marry me?’ _


	2. Jeff/Punk - 018. Asphyxiate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for major character death, mentions of asphyxiation.

He couldn’t breathe. It was like someone had reached in and grabbed his lungs, rendering them completely immobile. “You’re wrong,” Punk said, his voice steady even though it was so, so hard to breathe. “You’re wrong.” He repeated, certain he was right and the messenger was wrong and Jeff was fine. Jeff was fine. Jeff had to be fine. There was no universe in which Jeff was allowed to be anything but fine.

“I’m sorry,” the police officer said, her eyes sympathetic even as her face was stoic. “His brother did the identification a few minutes ago. I’m so sorry, sir.”

_ ‘That helps no one,’ _ he nearly shot back. _ ‘That helps no one. That won’t bring him back, that doesn’t fucking do anything except make you feel better.’ _ Instead he nodded his head, thanked her for her time and closed the door. Once the door was shut - even as gently as he’d closed it, tremors still ran through the wall, shaking the picture frames and that stupid painting Jeff had been so stubborn about putting up and it was all so wrong, so fucking wrong, because Jeff wasn’t even supposed to be in the stupid motocross competition. He wasn’t supposed to be there.

He wasn’t supposed to be dead.

Once the door was shut, Punk fell back against it, sending more vibrations through the apartment. He slid to the ground.

This couldn’t be happening.

He couldn’t breathe. It was hard to get air into his lungs as his breath hitched and hitched and hitched. Sobbing and gasping in equal measure, Punk dropped his head to his knees.

This couldn’t be happening.

Jeff couldn’t be dead.


	3. Paige/Nikki - 203. Kitten Heels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No major content warnings.

Paige hated those little demonic shoes Nikki had gotten for her three weeks. She hated them. And she had every bloody right to, okay? Sure, Nikki could wear them and look like fucking Audrey Hepburn, but Paige wore them and fell flat on her arse every damn time. “They’ll do wonders for your legs, darling,” the stylist Nikki had hired said, holding them out for Paige to take.

“Yeah, and the bruises do wonders for my complexion,” Paige muttered angrily, as she nearly stumbled. The stupid shoes - kitten heels? - were evil. After another step, Paige just snapped. She yanked off the first shoe, wobbling on one evil little kitten heel. Then she pulled off the other.

Then she lobbed them up and away - “Oh, shit!” She cupped her hands to her face, trying not to laugh as she stared at the open window one shoe had just gone through. The other shoe had hit the wall beside the window and bounced off, plummeting back down to the concrete. A loud shout emanated from the open window and shadows shifted, indicating that the apartment’s occupant was coming to check as to why a demon shoe had just flown into their living room and Paige ran off.

“Where’d those heels go?” Nikki asked that night, as she played with Paige’s hair. Paige stiffened, quickly trying to come up with an explanation. Then Nikki laughed, pressing a kiss to Paige’s forehead. “I’d expected for them to ‘accidentally’ fall into the trashcan as soon as we got home. I’m proud of you for sticking it out so long.”

“Wait until you hear the story,” Paige said, before she started into it.

Two minutes later, they were curled up even more on their bed, laughing. Nikki tucked her chin into Paige's shoulder and Paige's hands were around Nikki's waist. "See?" Nikki said. "Something good did some out of those shoes."


	4. Jeff/Drew - 272. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No major content warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drew Galloway is used instead of Drew McIntyre because that is the name Drew uses in TNA.
> 
> Inspired by the 4/12/2016 episode of Impact.

Jeff was in his dressing room backstage, wiping his stage makeup off with a damp towel. Someone knocked at the door - he paused for a second, considering the knock. Too hesitant to be Matt. Also too high up. “Come in!” He called, barely glancing away from the mirror.

“Hey, Jeff,” Drew stepped into the room. He almost seemed anxious, which was an odd thing to see on Drew Galloway. “I just - I came to apologize for -”

“C’mon, man, it’s nothing you gotta apologize for,” Jeff interrupted him, dropping the towel down to the table. “Matt cheated. Nothing you coulda done to stop it.” His jaw ached in response to the memory. If anyone was to blame, it was Jeff. He’d known Matt was capable of some shitty things. He’d known Matt would do anything to win. He should’ve realized Reby was going to interfere, should’ve known he needed to keep her away from the ring.

“But an ‘I Quit’ match?” Drew shook his head. “It’s just bullshit, Jeff. You’ve already won one against him. And unless you can find a way to keep Reby out of the building, he’s just gonna hit you with another hammer again.” He’d started pacing somewhere in his rant, running his hands through his hair.

“It’s alright,” Jeff tried to interrupt him again, but the Scotsman wasn’t stopping for anything.

“And he’s trying to make you change your name? He’s just losing his bloody mind, Jeff. And -” Drew actually paused, before he looked down and thought for a second. “And I don’t want you getting hurt. Not any more than you already have.” He swallowed. “I care about you, Jeff.”

There was a second where Jeff and Drew just looked at each other.

Then Jeff opened his mouth - to say what, he wasn’t quite sure, but he’d figure it out as soon as he got there.

Drew shook his head again. “If you ever need my help again, Jeff, just let me know.” He walked to the door. As he pulled it open, he said, “And don’t worry about Reby next week. I’ll keep her out of the way. You just make that asshole brother of yours say ‘I quit’.”


	5. Maryse - 378. There's no man alive that I can't destroy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No major content warnings.

The last person Zack expected to find by his car after Smackdown was Maryse. No longer in her gold and black outfit, she was dressed almost like a normal human being. There was a polite smile on her face, but murder in her eyes and Zack almost felt the need to turn around and run away. Someone has to need another driving partner, right? 

“How does it feel to be married to a man who wears more makeup than me?” Maryse hissed the words to him, stepping closer. “How does it feel to be a judgmental asshole, Mr. Former-Intercontinental-Champion?” She stressed the word ‘former’ as she took another step. “So what if Miz wears makeup? I will support my husband in all that he does.”

Zack backed up. Maryse kept coming closer. “‘Behind every champion, there is a great woman’,” Maryse repeated the words Miz had said earlier. “And trust me, Zack Ryder, I am a great woman and there isn’t a man alive that I can’t destroy.” She finally stepped back. 

“So watch out. And the next time you feel like judging my husband? Well, I am not a very forgiving person.” She smiled, much like a cheshire cat. “Have a nice night!” Maryse singsonged, waving to him as she walked away.


End file.
